Climbing the Tower with Multidimensional Avatars - Chapter 143

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 143. Galaxy Martial God Hall — Collateral Line (4)

“What do you know about how I feel?!”
For Cheon Ha-sung, it was only natural to feel the sting of the knowledge that next semester he’d be cooped up in cramped quarters with troublemakers.
But as if receiving karmic retribution for his usual swagger and showiness, his classmates who shared the dormitory had begun to tease him relentlessly.
“Hehehehe! Looks like you’re moving to a four-person room next semester!”
“Ahahaha! Better be careful when you’re asleep—those guys will pull your pants down and paint you with toothpaste….”
Cheon Ha-sung was the diligent type with fighting spirit and competitive hunger, though he did tend to strut about in his day-to-day manner more than most.
“Hey! Don’t talk like that!”
At the boys’ crude jokes, Cheon Ga-ryeong and the other girls scowled and shouted sharply, and the bus erupted into chaos in an instant.
Well, this is what kids should be like.
At the commotion, Teacher Kim Do-hwa, who was sitting at the very front of the bus as both homeroom teacher and chaperone, stood up and called out.
“Everyone quiet! Want to lose Points?”
Though Teacher Kim Do-hwa wasn’t a dorm supervisor and couldn’t issue demerit points, she could deduct Points from the Point Mall.
At the threat of losing Points, the children instantly fell silent and took their seats.
“Before we arrive, I’ll explain once more what I told you yesterday.”
Like a seasoned elementary school teacher, Teacher Kim Do-hwa placed little faith in children’s memory.
“The Exchange Event is divided into three main parts. Part one is the opening ceremony. Part two is the grade-level exchange gathering. Part three is the Martial Arts Tournament.”
Part one was nothing but tedious lectures, and part two was more of a social tea party.
The problem was part three.
“Anyone from our class participating in the Martial Arts Tournament—raise your hand.”
At Teacher Kim Do-hwa’s words, three children raised their hands.
Student number 6, Cheon Myeong-tae; number 9, Cheon Jo-seo; and number 12, Cheon Ga-ryeong.
If all students from every school participated in the Martial Arts Tournament, it couldn’t be completed in a day or two, so only a select few from the top-ranked classes were chosen to compete in grade-level matches and test their skills.
Every elementary school selected three students from Class 1 and two each from Classes 2 and 3, then conducted grade-level tournaments.
One might wonder if the rankings should follow numerical order—first, second, third place—but since Cheon So-yeon, who ranked first, and I, who ranked third, both despised such conspicuous events and declined, yesterday we’d opened registration and selected participants from volunteers.
As for why Cheon Ha-sung, who loved standing out, didn’t volunteer—apparently he was too frazzled from the demerit point situation to participate.
Cheon Myeong-tae made an appeal to Cheon So-yeon, as if asking her to witness his performance, but she seemed indifferent, admiring the scenery outside the window instead.
“You three will head to the Martial Arts Tournament waiting room before part two ends, so remember that.”
In the distance, an elementary school came into view that was in no way inferior in size when compared to Cheonmu Elementary School.
We had arrived at Cheon Young Elementary School, where the Exchange Event was being held.

* * *

As we stepped off the bus, the seniors who’d arrived on the earlier buses stood lined up. Their expressions were so fierce and menacing they looked like gangsters heading out for a street brawl.
I understood why Teacher Kim Do-hwa had asked me to play spy for her.
Why was everyone so tense when our school was only sending a measly twenty-four people to the Martial Arts Tournament?
“Is this the right atmosphere for this?”
At my question, Teacher Kim Do-hwa smiled bitterly.
“Competitive instinct is inevitable. Besides, martial artists grow through struggle.”
At Teacher Kim Do-hwa’s words, I looked at our class and the fourth-graders getting off the bus.
The fourth-graders, going to an exchange event with another elementary school for the first time, were too busy joking around and laughing with each other.
Though they’d heard various stories from their club seniors, since they’d never actually encountered it before, they didn’t seem to grasp the subtle tension between Direct Line and Collateral Line branches.
“Doesn’t this kind of competition-driven approach cause problems later?”
“Of course—teachers regulate it so it doesn’t become serious. Besides, later they’ll have to compete not just against Direct Line and Collateral Line, but against the children of vassal families and subordinate sects as well, so the squabbling between Direct and Collateral is really just a childhood thing.”
In the case of ultra-large martial sects like the Cheon Family Clan, which ruled multiple star systems, the vassal families and affiliated sects beneath them were themselves substantial enough to be called major sects.
“So in the end, blood relatives have no choice but to join hands. It seems unavoidable once martial artists step into politics.”
“There’s politics even in small companies—with something the size of the Martial God Cheon Family, it’s inevitable.”
Typically, sects like the Cheon Family Clan that ruled multiple star systems were classified as ultra-large martial sects.
Major sects were those with the scale to govern one or more planets or pioneered satellites.
Mid-tier sects were those governing continental or colony-level territories.
Small-to-medium sects encompassed everything from sects ruling individual provinces or nation-level regions to martial artists operating out of small neighborhoods.
Even those that “ruled” such territories, sects like the Cheon Family Clan did not assume the role of government themselves.
To draw an analogy, the Family Head was more like an emperor in a constitutional monarchy that unified multiple star systems.
What the Family Head actually wielded was military authority within Cheon Family territory. The reason this was possible requires examining the history of the space frontier era.
Briefly put, it was because the martial sects that spearheaded space exploration protected the settlers who followed them, colonized planets, and swelled their numbers.
At first, small settlements of pioneers, numbering only in the thousands and lacking protection from established governments, relied on major sects, but after several thousand years, their population had grown so vast they filled multiple star systems.
The galaxy was absurdly vast, and the established governments, distracted for a moment, found themselves powerless to contain major sects that had grown beyond national scale, so the major sects simply came to rule each region like emperors.
For ordinary citizens, the Major Sects had held military power since before they were even born, and since the martial artists of the Major Sects and the regular military protected them from space pirates and the invasions of the Heterodox Factions and Demonic Cult, they naturally came to accept it.
Of course, there had been attempts by locally autonomous governments to achieve complete independence and establish their own militaries.
Each time, the Major Sects would simply make a declaration, and the matter was settled.
‘That region is no longer under our protection.’
With that single declaration, the space pirates of the brutal cosmic age would pour into the independent regions, slaughtering and plundering at will, while the people had nowhere to turn for relief, even as they were dragged away into slavery.
The regional government could only fend for itself against the disasters wrought by the Pirate King—a monster at the Natural Realm—and the countless Fire Realm pirates under his command, rampaging as they pleased.
Because they had declared independence. Because no one had any obligation to protect them.
The Natural Realm is a realm that has begun to be called a living cosmic horror—a state where, given enough time, even a pair of bare fists could purify an entire planet.
Naturally, the meager regional militia could never hope to withstand a monster of the Natural Realm, and so when millions died, they would cry out to cancel their independence and crawl back under the Major Sects.
Of course, whether they were accepted or not was entirely the Major Sects’ decision.
If they refused to set an example, that region would become barren wasteland uninhabitable by humans, spawning countless refugees.
If they accepted them, the region would become land ruled by a puppet government that could only cry “Thank you” even as they endured every conceivable disadvantage and exploitation.
Well, such things happened occasionally in the Heterodox Path’s territory rather than the Orthodox Faction’s.
“Come on, everyone inside.”
We entered what appeared to be the Indoor Gymnasium of Cheon Young Elementary School, where the exchange event was being held.
This was a well-funded school too, and even with the upper-grade students from four schools, including ours, all gathered together, we filed in with ease.

* * *

Cheon Ha-sung, fourth-year student of Class 1 at Cheonmu Elementary School and ranked second in the Ranking System, entered the Indoor Gymnasium and great hall of Cheon Young Elementary School with a deep sigh.
Living in a dormitory after enrolling, since his family residence was far away, Cheon Ha-sung was able to enjoy a comfortable dormitory life thanks to his natural talents.
In first year, double rooms were mandatory, but starting in second year, students could use single rooms based on their Ranking System performance, and once the Points system was implemented, he could afford a comfortable lifestyle.
Since Points could only be used at the school’s Point Mall, he couldn’t use them when going out, which was somewhat inconvenient, but since the Point Mall had everything, he could buy most of what he wanted.
Even at his young age, he understood that it was the fruit of his own effort and that without diligence he would lose these privileges, so he never slacked off.
In truth, the reason he never slacked off was his natural love of showing off and the presence of Cheon So-yeon as a rival for the ages, but he couldn’t ignore the incentive of Points that the school provided.
But that effort was, after all, only effort as a martial artist.
The generous Points the school granted him made his life outside of martial arts study lax and undisciplined.
A poor student like Cheon Bu-hyeon apparently saved his Points to send necessities and food to his family.
But Cheon Ha-sung’s family ran a company of considerable scale, if not quite a mid-sized enterprise, so he had no qualms about spending his Points freely.
Wasteful spending was fine enough.
But he also neglected cleaning, and even left food in the refrigerator until it rotted.
Over time, the dormitory supervisor had pointed out his behavior multiple times and given him demerit points, but little had changed.
He had always thought that with his school performance, a few demerit points were easily manageable.
But he was wrong.
During a periodic room inspection, the horrified supervisor decided this couldn’t continue and imposed demerit points so severe they couldn’t be covered by his grades, ordering him to complete a moral education program.
A school was a place to educate students, and since it operated dormitories rather than day commuting, dormitory life was an extension of school life.
If a student led an undisciplined life, the school had a duty to correct it.
Protests through his parents didn’t work either.
The school’s educational authority was protected under the Family Head’s name, and obstructing legitimate exercise of educational authority was no different from obstructing the Family Head’s authority.
If a student didn’t like the teacher’s correction, he could simply abandon all future benefits and leave the school.
This wasn’t the Heterodox Path or the Demonic Cult—they wouldn’t shatter his core or sever his meridians just because he left the school.
As long as he was classified as Direct Line, enrollment was nearly mandatory, but expulsion or transfer was up to the student and parents.
Of course, the school would never accept the expulsion or transfer of a genius like Cheon So-yeon, and would persistently persuade a promising student like Cheon Ha-sung, but it would ultimately respect their decision.
“Haah….”
Cheon Ha-sung, looking half-dead, took his seat.
The great hall had an empty central space like a round table, with event tables and chairs arranged in a circle, with seating assigned by school, grade, and class.
Each school’s Class 1 of each grade sat in the front row, arranged from right to left in order: sixth grade, fifth grade, fourth grade.
Since the fourth-graders from each school had never attended an exchange event before, they served as a breakwater to prevent inter-school rivalry, a deliberate seating arrangement.
With such a large age difference—a single year—it felt awkward to assert seniority against fourth-graders, and even if they did, they knew they would be severely scolded for threatening younger students, so the older students also remained well-behaved.
Even as a teacher from another school offered congratulatory remarks for the students attending the exchange event from the center of the great hall, Cheon Ha-sung barely heard a word.
Just then, a fifth-grade senior sitting directly to his right tossed him a note.
Opening it, Cheon Ha-sung found what amounted to a request from a club senior asking him to come out to the restroom with the excuse that they needed to talk briefly.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom for a moment.”
At Cheon Ha-sung’s words, Teacher Kim Do-hwa glanced at him, then nodded slightly.
“…Make it quick.”
The clipped tone of Teacher Kim Do-hwa left Cheon Ha-sung baffled as to how Cheon Ji-woo managed to banter and get along so well with such a stony instructor.
When he got to the restroom, a club senior was waiting for him.
“Hey, Cheon Ha-sung. Why didn’t you participate in the exchange martial tournament? Shouldn’t the top three usually participate? You’re all missing.”
Under the senior’s reproach, Cheon Ha-sung hung his head low.
“Ah… I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention….”

(To be continued in the next part)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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